


have a break

by chikadatte



Category: Naruto
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chikadatte/pseuds/chikadatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>high school au where Izuna has to aid Marada in his (very unsuccessful) courting of a certain student council president (a.k.a. Senju Hashirama), which, of course, leads to a complete escapade with the downfall of Uchiha pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have a break

**have a break, have a kitkat;**

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"Love is a wonder thing, and oh, a thing most mysterious," Izuna crows upon strolling leisurely into the student council room. "You mustn't chase it with vigour fervour, for it is like a butterfly. It will settle on your arm when you are not paying attention. It will dawn upon your life as the sun does beyond the horizon every day, and your happiness shall ripple off in a myriad of colours."

Madara slams his head down on the table and winces.

"Izuna," Madara starts when the black haired male is seemingly done with his ramblings, "we are not in the middle of a Shakespearean class and it would be much appreciated for you to remove your presence. It’s against the rules for non-council members to be in here."

"You just can't show some appreciation for all the effort I'm making, can you?” Izuna sighs, resting his head on the table and staring across at his brother. “I talked to Hashirama today. He gave me the permission to join the council.”

Izuna barely suppresses a giggle when Madara almost leaps out of his chair and tried to pry the filled out form in his hand. “Are you serious? You managed to get past Tobirama?”

“Yes, Nii-san. I got past my boyfriend,” Izuna says dryly. Sometimes, he wondered why god ever blessed Madara with such brains if he could never use them outside of homework and vice -student council duties.

“Wait, when did you start dating? And you’re _gay_?” Madara stares incredulously, "seems like I have failed as the future heir of the Uchiha clan if my brother's _gay_ ," he  mutters, burying his face in his hand.

"You're only saying that because you're gay for Hashirama and we need heirs for the next generation right?"

"Actually, yes."

"Anyway, Nii-san," Izuna grins and twirls a lock of hair around his finger, "going back to what I was going to talk to you about..."

Madara looks warily across the table. "How about no?"

"Well, whatever. Tobirama told me that Hashirama received a confession from that Mito girl today. You know, the popular chick with red hair? Apparently, Hashirama is planning to give his ans-"

" _She fucking what_?"

"Hashirama's going to reject her anyway," Izuna shrugs, completely oblivious to Madara's blazing Mangekyo Sharingan and the half-formed Susano-o arm that poked out from under the table.

"But she had to guts to _confess_ ," Madara stresses. "That insolent girl should learn to know her place."

"Well, it's not like you're dating Hashirama," Izuna says, standing up and heading for the door. "You should take a break from your fruitless attempts at courting him seeing as he's too thick to notice."

"Excuse me, but Uchiha's don't give up on trivial matters such as...infatuation," Madara sniffs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I suppose not, but your stress is beginning to show," Izuna intejects, pointing at Madara's eyebags.

"Oh right," Izuna sweeps on, digging his hand into his bag and fishing out a bright yellow package, lobbing it into the general direction of Madara. "Tobirama gave me this today. It might help you de-stress."

Madara barely catches the small package and looks up just in time to see Izuna closing the door behind him.

He looks down at the item in his hand and a KitKat bar stares back innocently at him.

' _New inarizushi flavour! Have a break. Have a KitKat!_ '

Madara frowns at it and rips open the wrapping.

"I probably should take a break."

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Of all the conclusions Madara's more than capable mind is able of drawing, he has no idea why he's in the convenience store outside the station paying for three party sized bags of inarizushi KitKats.

"Thanks for the patronage," the cashier beams at him. She looks familiar, with her red hair tied up in two double buns and hair accessories dangling off them.

"Aren't you Uzumaki from school?" Madara asks, trying very hard to suppress his Susano-o that just wanted to conveniently shatter her frail body.

"Yes," she smiles at him, "you're Madara-kun from the student council, right? How's Hashirama?"

Madara allows himself to activate the Mangekyo Sharingan on his right eye, which was fortunately curtained by his hair.

"Here's your change and a complimentary KitKat for spending over 2000 yen," she presses the coins into his hand and Madara twitches at the contact. Unleashing Amaterasu sounded amazing right now. His right hand would be a small price to pay if it meant he could burn her alive right now. But then again, how would he be able to please himself with pictures of Hashirama without the help of his right hand?

Madara tsks and snatches up his bag of KitKat.

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"How much longer until you're done with the paperwork? It's already five."

Madara looks up and sees a pair of bright eyes and an equally big grin almost plastered to his face.

"Give me half an hour more, Hashirama," he says curtly and returns his gaze to his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard with twice the speed now that the student council president was here.

The fact that he managed to keep his eyes glued to the screen instead of turning to Hashirama every few seconds never failed to astound him.

Absentmindedly, he picks up a KitKat.

Hashirama, on the other hand, is somewhere behind him amusing himself with the spinning office chairs.

"Hey Madara, what's this?" Hashirama somehow bounces next to him and picks up a KitKat. "I've never seen this flavour before and what's up with the English phrase on it? Wait, what does it say? 'Have a break, Have a KitKat?'"

"Obviously, it's a bar of chocolate."

"Yeah, well it's -"

"I'm done," Madara butts in, walking over to the printer and handing a stack of paper to Hashirama. "Just sign it and leave it in the staff room."

"Yes, sir!" Hashirama gives a mock salute and bounds out of the student council room.

"Oh, by the way, wait for me at the main doors, Madara. We haven't gone home together in such a long time," comes the echoing call down the corridors.

There's a small smile on Madara's lips when he picks up his bag and head downstairs, only to facepalm when he sees the light drizzle outside turn into a downpour.  But that was fine with him as well if it meant he could stay a bit longer with Hashirama.

He looks up the stairwell and there's no sign of Hashirama yet. Good.

It doesn't take long for Madara to slink over to the umbrella rack and shove the spare umbrellas into an empty shoe locker.

Minutes pass and there's no way Madara's heart is speeding up at every passing second. Oh no. He bits into another KitKat and tries to use it to crush the butterflies in his stomach.

"Hey Madara!"

Madara had never known that choking on a piece of chocolate and having it lodged in his throat could hurt that much.

"Hey," he croaks, turning away and furiously wiping at his watering eyes.

"Madara, are you _crying_?"

"Fuck, no," he hisses and for some unintelligible reason, Hashirama takes his reply as a self-denial and invitation for comfort.

"It's okay, stop crying. I'll be here to listen if you need someone to talk to," Hashirama says, crushing him in an embrace and stroking his hair in a less-than-comforting manner. Madara tries not to think about how much conditioner he'll need to use to take out those knots later.

"Fucking hell, Hashirama, I'm fine," Madara seethes, more irked by the fact that Hashirama would think that he was capable of crying than himself getting a hard-on by the hug.

"Here, have some chocolate," Hashirama sticks his hand into Madara's bag and extract a bar of inarizushi KitKat from the side pouch. "These things make you happy, right?"

Madara opts to ignore the other male, grappling his water bottle from his bag and taking a swig from it. It soothes the burning from his throat and he's not sure whether his heart is still beating furiously from the after effects of choking or it's having Hashirama hugging him.

"I'm fine now," he mumbles, taking the KitKat from Hashirama's open palm. No matter how deep his infatuation for Hashirama ran, it was not something that could even come near rivalling his love for inarizushi.

"You can have this one though," Madara says, suddenly remembering the complimentary KitKat he had graciously recieved from _that girl_. 

That insolent, worthless girl who needed to learn her place.

He presses the KitKat (Madara has no idea what flavour it is, but it looks like dark chocolate or something) into Hashirama's waiting hands and the smile he receives in return is almost as bright as the sun, and Madara debates whether it was worth staying a hundred and fifty million kilometers from Hashirama just to stop the irrationality from tainting his heart.

And of course, Hashirama, being the (surprisingly) brainless idiot he is, completely lights up at the prospect of something from Madara the ice king.

"Is this also inarizushi flavoured?" Hashirama questions, cocking his head and staring at the dark brown packaging and Madara almost has to bit his tongue from snapping out that _no, inarizushi was not dark brown._

But oh, the things he was willing to sacrifice for love.

Hashirama breaks open the aluminium wrapping and gives the chocolate a tentative lick and promptly sticks the whole thing into his mouth, almost gagging in the process.

Madara stiffens at the warmth pooling at his lower regions.

Stupid Hashirama. Stupid irrationality. Goddammit.

There's a faint blush on rising on Hashirama's cheeks and Madara thinks that he's finally going to lose it.  His fingers drift unconsciously to his privates and he eyes the other male out of the corner of his Sharingan, heart hammering in his ches-

-HAAAAACCKKKGEEUUURGHHH

The KitKat comes flying out of Hashirama's mouth Madara stares blankly at him, his erection deflating at an alarming rate, not unlike the way a balloon does.

He catches sight of the KitKat packaging that gazed at him at a not-so-innocently, the words "Limited Edition - soy sauce flavour!" mocking him.

Oh shit, wasn't Hashirama allergic to soy sauce?

Madara vaguely registers the footsteps that come thundering down the stairs and Tobirama suddenly appears before him.

"What the _fuck_ did you _do_ , Uchiha?"

Madara opens his mouth to answer and he thinks he's doing a very good job of impersonating a goldfish.

On the other hand, he notes sluggishly, Hashirama was making a very good impression of a cat hacking up a furball.

Tobirama observes, while dialing furiously for an ambulance, that maybe Madara was a hell lot dumber than he looked. Stupidity was pretty much a given for Hashirama. How the duo were the student council president and deputy never failed to alarm him.

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By the time the paramedics come and go, dragging Hashirama away with them, Izuna finds, much to his bemusement,  a very stupefied Madara gaping in front of the school entrance and at least thirty-five text messages from Tobirama coming up with synonyms for "fucktard" for his brother.

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Uchiha Madara, despite only being sixteen years old, current student council president deputy and future heir of the Uchiha household, has had his fair share of unusual experiences. Of course, no matter how bizarre the situations was, he had never failed to hide any of his expressions behind that cold calculating mask of his.

Simply put, he has no idea what to do now considering the fiasco with Hashirama the other day, and so, being stuck in the student council room with both Izuna and Tobirama shooting him pitying looks and heated glares respectively, he thinks he might just end up spontaneous combusting by the end of the day.

"I'm going to buy something from the vending machines," he grits his teeth and snarls when Tobirama shoots him another _look_.

Why couldn't Izuna just break up with that asshole already?

When Madara opened the door, his overwhelming Uchiha presence draws in the rather fearful glances of the other students. Maybe it was because of his Mangekyo Sharingan, or maybe it was the fact that he had just caught sight of that Uzumaki and his Susano'o had just conveniently decided to grace the school grounds with its presence.

"Madara-kun, is it true that you planned a coup d'état against the Senju's through food poisoning Hashirama-kun?" Mito spoke up, catching up the Madara and matching her pace with his.

There was quite the collection of horrified gasps when those words slipped out of her mouth.

"Tsk," Madara exhales, his fingers curling from irritation. How he wished that the hair decoration that hung from her hair were actually explosive tags.

"You didn't, did you?" She presses, looking up at Madara.

"Of course not," he cuts in and hastens his pace, trying to shake off the Uzumaki

"I thought not. Anyway, why don't you drop off by the hospital later and apologize to Hashirama-kun? You seem pretty worked up over it," Mito blinks.

Madara stares at her, completely dumbfounded.  Who did she think she was, giving him of all people, advice? He bursts out into laughter and there's a hush in the corridors. Mito takes a step backwards, looking alarmed.

Without saying a single word and completely forgetting about the vending machine on his right, Madara forces his way back to the student council room. His creativity offers him a bit of consolation when he thinks up different ways to disguise explosive tags into the Uzumaki's hair.

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When he notes that Tobirama has left the classroom, and Izuna is sitting in front of a desk, filling out some sort of form, Madara's shoulders visibly relaxes.

"Izuna," he starts and the other boy looks up from his work. "I think I'll go pay Hashirama a visit"

Izuna fidgets uncomfortably in his chair, "Tobirama is there right now, Nii-san. He probably wouldn't be too pleased about seeing you after what happened. You might want to take a break from your feelings."

"You know, the last time you said that, a complete disaster took place," Madara bites, running his hands through his disheveled hair.

"Well, if you want to go, you could always do it tomorrow morning where the two of you will be alone," Izuna averts his gaze and twirls the pen in his hand.

'Hn."

A silence lapses over the room and Madara chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Straining his clear abundance of Uchiha intelligence, he tried to come up with a plan for tomorrow.

"Hey Izuna," he questions, "what's the quickest way to a man's heart?"

"I'm not quite sure either, but I think a chidori through the chest would work quite well."

Madara groans and digs into his pocket for an inarizushi KitKat. 

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Out of the (lack of) sanity from his mind, Madara finds himself standing in front of a too white counter, scaring a nurse completely shitless.

"Excuse me, but which room is Senju Hashirama currently in?"

The nurse gapes and him and he snickers, heading the down the pristine corridors and activating his Sharingan, scanning all of the rooms.

Gripping the doorknob in his hand, ha pauses and opts to deactivate his Sharingan.

"Oi, Madara, just come in already. I know you're lurking out there," a very familiar voice calls out and Madara thinks he might just shit himself.

Looking back, maybe flinging open the door with horrifyingly loud bang and his Sharingan flaring probably wasn't the best way to enter.

"How did you know I was outs-"

Hashirama raises an eyebrow and points at Gamakichi sitting on the bedside table. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because  of the Senjutsu we're both using right now? Oh by the way, just for your information, the exit is on your left," Hashirama continues, gesturing to the doorway which Madara had just entered from.

"Oh." Madara fidgets, catching the hint that _maybe_ , just maybe Hashirama wasn't too pleased to see him. "I'll visit another time," he says, hand snaking out towards the doorknob.

There's a sudden sound of cracking and Madara isn't exactly sure what just happened but the back of his head sure as hell hurts.

"Tsk, and not even a 'sorry'." Gamakichi's high-pitched voice flows over and at this point Madara's pretty sure he got hit by something.

The ground doesn't look all that welcoming when it rushes up to meet his face.

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When Madara returns home and opens the door, he's greeted with Izuna strewn across the sofa with magazines littering the floor.

"How was the visit?" Izuna questions, taking a bite out of one of _his_ Kitkats.

"Bad. I got a brick in the head," Madara bites back, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, so you mean you finally got the notion of taking a break hammered into your head? That's not so bad." Another bite of his Inarizushi Kitkat.

"No, what I meant was, Hashirama used Douton on me and I got a fucking brick to the back of my head."

(It takes Izuna a while to figure that "..Oh well...uh, shit" probably wasn't the consolation Madara was looking for.)

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The fact that Hashirama is absent at school somehow calms Madara. It's not such a bad change to have no one nagging him to do the student council paperwork and pushing  all of the student president work onto him, but he shudders at the thought of Hashirama returning to school and unleashing his rage onto him. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve one of the Senju's hugeass stone golems and a Susano-o  clad Kyuubi.

But nevertheless, when the school bell rings, he finds himself making his way to the student council room and sighing at the stacks of paperwork that's scattered everywhere.

"So how was your day?" Izuna presses when he enters the room. "Did Hashirama say anything to you every since what happened in the hospital?"

Madara swivels around on his chair, unwrapping an inarizushi KitKat, and glares. "No."

"Oh, that's a shame, Nii-san," Izuna says, completely oblivious to Madara's irk. "You seem pretty upset about it. Why don't we give all of this a break and go out for some fun tomorrow? Just the two of us."

"Tomorrow's Friday. We've got school."

"....It's Saturday tomorrow, Nii-san. You really do need a break."

"Fine," Madara hisses, throwing down his pen and splattering ink over the documents, more irritated with himself than Izuna.  "Where do you want to go tomorrow."

Izuna cocks his head in thought. "We could just rent a car and just go for a drive."

"And our destination?"

"Nowhere in particular. It'll be fun."

Madara closes his eyes and rubs at  his temples. It didn't take a genius to figure just how many things could go wrong and of course, he's not surprised when he finds himself automatically agreeing to Izuna's plans.

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The car is a bit old, the leather seats smell a bit mouldy and the radio doesn't work, but hey, it's cheap and beggars can't be choosers. Izuna is seated next to him, munching on one of _his_ KitKats again and scattering crumbs everywhere (not that it'd make a difference seeing how unkempt the car was).

He shuts the door behind him and the handle rattles a bit.

"You ready?" Izuna questions beside him, wiggling his eyebrows.

Madara huffs. "I was ready since the day I was born."

The engine coughs and splutters and after a colourful string of curses from Madara, the car starts rolling downhill.

And of course, so does their journey.

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The ride starts off a Madara would expect, the soft hum of the engine in the car with the wind rushing  by the open windows and for a while, he registers that he hasn't felt this carefree in a while. The scenery flies by and people focus in his sight, before blurring into the distance.

The road slopes downwards and Madara adjusts his gears, pressing down ever so slightly on the brakes...and it doesn't work. Well, fuck.

"Is something the matter, Nii-san?" Izuna says upon catching sight of Madara's expression, not in the very least concerned and still biting into Madara's KitKats.

Madara raises an unimpressed eyebrow in response as the car accelerates. The car turns a corner and he's glad that he still has control over the steering wheel, until he catches sight of a crossroad.

"Hey, Izuna, I think we're fucked."

"Oh, are we?" Izuna states, looking up from where he was examining his nails, only for his eyes to widen in horror at the cars that whizz pass below him as they accelerate nearer, skidding down the slop.

"OH MY GOD MADARA. BRAKE. NOW." Izuna shrieks, fingers flying as he tries to erect some Douton barriers to slow down the car.

But of course, things never really turn out the way they hope for because of the Uchiha's Curse of Bad Luck or Curse of Wrath from the Gods or maybe it's simply something along the lines of the Curse of Hatred.

Madara convinces that this is the first and last time such an undignifying scream will ever rip itself out of his throat when the wheels hit Izuna's douton and the car is launched into the air before tilting back onto the road.

"FUCKING HELL, IZUNA. STOP SCREAMING AND HELP ME OUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE. THE BRAKES ARE BROKEN."

Madara considers activating his Susano-o but brushes the idea out of the way when he realizes that would probably just end up destroying all the other cars in front of him and get him into trouble with lawsuits. When he comes back to reality, there's barely ten meters left between the car and the crossroads, so he does what any normal peasant fucking does-

\- continuously slams down on the honk in resignation.

The impact knocks the air out of him and Madara's vaguely aware that he might be bleeding.

He glances up at the cracked windshield and he can barely make out the blurry figures climbing out of their equally beat up cars.

Izuna next to him, is unsurprisingly calm for a change, safely encaged in the ribs of his own Susano-o. God. Why didn't Madara think of that?

"...I guess you can say that the brakes took a break..." Izuna mutters and that's all Madara registers before he passes out (yet again).

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It feels like even fate is mocking him when Madara opens his eyes and finds himself faced with nothing but white. A glimpse of colour catches his eyes and he twists his head to the left, the pillow pressing into his face. Hashirama, fast asleep, is not what he expects and maybe this is something like deja vu gone wrong.

Hashirama stirs and Madara's already preparing to activate his Sharingan in case the other male decides to use some kind of Jutsu on him for crashing five cars and running over a squirrel. What he is not prepared for, however, is a crushing hug from Hashirama sobbing about how glad he was about Madara not dying.

Madara's heart rate is probably going way past the speed limit and he digs into his pocket for a bar of KitKat to calm himself down, only to be met with nothing as he gropes around his hospital gown.

"Are you looking for this?" Hashirama questions, holding out a bar of soy sauce flavoured KitKat and Madara's eyes widen in horror before he sprints out of the hospital room, all of his wounds miraculously healed.

In the end, Hashirama is left gaping in the room amidst a throng of screaming nurses about the "black-haired highschooler who just got into a car accident trying to escape".

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Apart from Tobirama's apparent dislike for Madara, there is also one thing that he also absolutely despises - Sunday mornings, because Hashirama never failed to wake him in the most abrasive manner necessary.

When Hashirama barges into his room, sets off all of his explosive tag which he used as traps, switching on all the lights and dousing him with some kind of suiton jutsu, all Tobirama does is moan and roll over in his bed and curl into a fetal position.

"Hurry up and wake up Tobirama. You've got to look at the news." Hashirama yowls in his ear.

"That's exactly what you said last week."

"Both the KitKat factory and company's been burnt down overnight. There are rumours that the Kyuubi is involved."

" _What?_ "

Hashirama nods solemnly, "I just got a call from Izuna and he says that he can't find Madara. You might want to give Izuna a call. He's in complete hysterics right now."

Tobirama sits up with a groan and picks up his phone, eyes squinting from the light. Fucking hell. Thirty missed calls from Izuna and another fifty or so unread messages.

"I think Izuna's completely broken on the inside now as well," Hashirama laughs, "all because he didn't get a break," he adds as an afterthought.

Tobirama hits the redial button and shoots Hashirama the most toxic glare he can muster.

No one picks up the phone and Tobirama sighs before switching off his mobile and turning back to sleep.

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Later in the day, when Tobirama stumbles out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, he turns to the television, eyes widening when he sees Madara being escorted from what's left of the KitKat company by a group of Anbu.

"That guy just broke a record for taking the most extreme actions after being rejected."

"You think so?" Hashirama questions from the couch. "It's nothing the Uchiha can't fix."

Tobirama pauses when he sees Hashirama digging into the behind the cushions and pulling out a bar of KitKat.

"Want one? It's from the last pack."

" _No._ "

**Author's Note:**

> not sponsored by nestle


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